A SEASON OF SMALL AND PRECIOUS GIFTS
by Lorilynn Bowles
This time last year our red retriever, Millie, gave us a wonderful gift by freeing us from a terrible guilt. After many years, Millie finally made peace with her seasonal nemesis - The Christmas Tree.
"Happy Holidays" does not register with Millie; she loathes any kind of change. Winter festivities at our house start when we bring in the tree. Our tradition does not include a forest romp to cut down a spruce or even going to the corner lot and strapping a fragrant conifer to the car. No, indeed; true desert inhabitants that we are, our ritual involves marching out to the garage and bringing in our carefully stored artificial tree. No caroling, no cocoa, but, funnily enough, we do enjoy it. All our dogs happily run over for a sniff, excited by something different in the house. All, that is, except Millie.
We set the tree up in our front room while Millie watches us from the safety of the upstairs landing. During the holidays she would begrudgingly come into the room to be with us, but she gave the tree a wide berth. She clearly did not like it and this was distressing for us. To understand our angst you need to know that Millie started life in terrible circumstances. Her original home is an unhappy legend amongst the old-timers of the Rescue. She has come a long way since we adopted her, but will probably always be fearful. Our family and friends really enjoy the Christmas tree, so not having it up wasn't really an option. Consequently, for years our Christmas was tinged by retriever guilt.
Like a lot of people, we had been through some tough times recently. Our only child moved away for a job opportunity, close friends with young children divorced, a younger sibling was diagnosed with a debilitating illness, and then there's the economy -- pretty grim stuff. Then, just a few days before Christmas in 2010, we unexpectedly lost John's Mum, the matriarch of our family. Once something like that happens it becomes part of your holiday memories. Like all things, it gets better with time, but there it is. This was definitely on our minds as we put the tree up last year. I like to think Millie sensed this and knew we needed a reprieve.
Forward to December of last year...We lit the fire, put on the Christmas music and started decorating the tree. To our surprise and delight Millie came in and lay down in front of the fireplace. Not particularly close to the tree, mind you but, - Joy to the World - at least in the same room. Our other retrievers greeted her with glee. They love to help with the decorating, and it's always a worry that we'll trip over one of them while attempting to hang the $50 Christopher Radko ornament given to us by a relation who will, believe me, check to make sure it's in pride of place. That evening Millie joined us all again as we had a glass of wine and admired the tree. She still kept a wary eye on the green intruder, but she was wagging her tail and enjoying the companionship of her pack. Things were definitely looking up.
It was while I was endeavoring to bake at least one kind of Christmas cookie that Millie demonstrated that she and tree had reached a permanent treaty of peace. My husband came quietly into the kitchen, his finger to his lips directing me to be silent. John motioned for me to follow him into the living room and -"what to my wondering eyes should appear?" Well, they beheld our own small holiday miracle, for there was Millie curled up and sleeping under the tree. She looked quite a picture on the plaid tree skirt - very Norman Rockwell - except for her snoring, but hey, you can't have everything. This continued to be her favorite spot all through the season.
In the summer of this year she gave us another wonderful present. For the first time in the 5 years she's been our dog Millie rolled over in the grass for a tummy rub. Our happiness in this demonstration of trust is immeasurable, as is our pleasure to find her snuggling under the tree again this December. These are both very small, yet precious gifts which are, perhaps, the best kind of all.
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